


Boston Light

by A_sillyGermaninLatin_Class



Series: Near the Great-Little Mountain [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Diary Notation, Massachusetts Humane Society, Surfmen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_sillyGermaninLatin_Class/pseuds/A_sillyGermaninLatin_Class
Summary: Same project for school, less successfully executed. This is the story of Aidan's son.
Series: Near the Great-Little Mountain [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560052





	Boston Light

**Author's Note:**

> Same project for school, less successfully executed. This is the story of Aidan's son.

_October 30_

The shingles are rattling on the roof. The gale outside is a real bad one. I’d estimate the wind’s somewhere around 27 knots. Dad and I boarded up the windows earlier today when we saw it on the horizon. The shutters are closed tight, and everything important is tied down. The boats are all safe in their moorings, at least, they should be. I can’t sleep right now, this is the first major storm we’ve had this season. It’s howling something frightful, and eddying through the cracks in the windows. The noise is almost unbearable, it’s so loud. In truth, it sounds like a miserable dying animal. Something wild and ferocious and angry. It will only get worse from here, though. That’s how the storms go. In the moment though, I am worried. I know we’ll be fine, but there’s always the fear of this being the one time where everything is destroyed. Really, that one time will be later in the season. I should make sure my siblings are asleep though, they might need me if they aren’t.

_October 31_

The storm’s blown itself out. Sean and I went around cleaning up the debris that was blown onshore. He had a lot of fun collecting strangely shaped flotsam and jetsam. But he’s still young, he has no cares to worry him. I wish I could be that way. But I have to work, I have to provide. If Dad and I didn’t fish or sail where would we be? In any case, Sean and I walked over to the shore facing the lighthouse, just to see how it was. It was in fine condition. The light flashes by every ten seconds as it’s supposed to. It is steady and constant. It is always there for the sailors, guiding and protecting them. Lighthouse aside, it was a busy day. After Sean got tired out searching for random debris that got washed up last night I climbed up the roof to see if there was any damage there. There were a few shingles loose that I had to repair, but overall the damage was minimal. While we were off clearing out the roads and scrounging the beaches Dad was making sure the boats weren’t damaged by the winds or the waves. We were again fortunate, as the boats were fine. Mom made some clam chowder for dinner to help warm us up after the long work today. Tomorrow we should be back to normal.

_November 1_

Today was business as usual. Dad and I went out fishing early in the morning. We got a good catch in before heading back to shore to sell it at the market. Sean wanted to come with us, so we let him help with the nets a little. Dad says he’s getting to the age where he needs to start learning about the world and his place in it. After that, we stopped by home, before I took the boat back out alone. After the storm, there were bound to be a few wrecks I could salvage. As I sailed out I stopped by the light. It was still lit, as it should be, giving direction and warning to the incoming ships. Past the light, I saw some men in a rowboat. They were pushing their boat out into the surf and rowing back and forth. Again and again they did this. As I sailed past I saw the name on their boat. Humane Society. Mass. They’re the surfmen, the heroes who go out in the storms to save the sailors trapped on the sinking ships. I called greeting when I passed, before moving on toward the city. I figured I could get a little extra ferrying the urbanites around the bay. 

The mass this evening was nice; we remembered those lost over the year, those lost to the sea and those lost to age for the most part. It was closure for Dad I think, that Mamó Kayleigh was honored. I miss her. She was such a wonderful kind person, she wouldn’t take nothing from no one, but she made sure that those she loved had the best of everything she could give.

_November 2_

The lighthouse is still lit. The surfmen are still practicing. They are at odds with each other in a sort of poetic sense. One seeks to prevent a beached ship, and the others exist because of the ships that flounder. I spent most of my day thinking about these things, so much so that Erin and Mary noticed. I didn’t want them to, they’ll just go and tell all of their friends about me. It would ruin my reputation. I’m supposed to be smart and collected and down to earth. I’m supposed to help Dad provide for everyone. They asked me what I was looking for out in the bay, and being the idiot I was, I told them I was comparing the light to the surfmen. They sort of laughed before flouncing back inside. Other than that, I did the same thing I always do. Fish and sail the wealthy city folk around.

_November 3_

Dad pulled me aside today after the day was over, before dinner. “Kyle,” he said, “You know I want what’s best for you right?” I nodded. “And you know that I rely on you. Sean is young still.” I nodded again. I knew where this was going. “Kyle, you understand that I can’t have you join the Humane Society. They’re wonderful people. Our neighbors and our friends. But I need you here.” I nodded quietly, but after dinner I went out to the beach alone. I needed time and space to think. I am dedicated to my family. I would give my life for them. But I want to do more than just fish and ferry. I don’t want to be trapped in the house as ships are dashed against the bars. But this is idle thought, and I really ought to sleep. 

_November 4_

I’ve resolved to not think about anything today. I brought in a good haul of cod for market and made a solid sum. I took Sean with me when I was ferrying tourists. There were some pretty ladies on board, their dresses were fine and clean. They loved Sean, fawning over him like a pair of slobbering dogs do over a piece of liver. It was kind of disgusting, really. The way they acted you’d think they’d never seen a 13 year old boy before in their life. Still, money is money. After I’d deposited them we sailed back past the light. It was blinking every 10 seconds, a security for everyone sailing. The surfmen weren’t out today.

_November 5_

I woke up with a bad feeling. Something in the air I guess. But it’s business as usual.

_November 6_

The air is calm and still. Everyone is holding their breath. We try not to move if we can’t help it. The light blinks past every 10 seconds, constant in its watchfulness. I went fishing with Dad this morning. Sean came too. Later I walked down to the station. Some of the surfmen were there, making sure that all of the equipment was in good condition. They were looking out at the horizon nervously. We might have our first nor’easter soon. How I wish I could learn to be brave like them. To stand in defiance of the storms and act with honor.

_November 7_

A massive storm’s blown in. It’s howling around the house. This is much worse than last week. I’d put the wind speed at about 44 knots. Sean and I had to board up the house and tie up our boat on our own this time. Dad was in the city trying to buy some goods. I hope he has the sense to stay there.

_November 8_

It’s still blowing. Dad hasn’t come back yet, which is both good and terrifying. Sean is getting antsy stuck inside all day. So am I, but I’m not going to say anything about it. I’ve been trying to distract him from everything with some of his old scraps left behind by storms. For once I’m glad he’s been collecting driftwood. We’ve been making maps of the bay, and model ships, and strange fantastical pictures. Anything to distract us from what is sure to be a mess when the sky clears. Mom and Erin have spent their time darning and patching old sheets. Mary is knitting blankets and scarves for the Society to give to the wrecked sailors.

_November 9_

The nor’easter blew itself out this afternoon. For such a short storm, it certainly did a lot of damage. Some of the trees near my house fell and needed to be cleared out, and parts of the roof were blown away. That wasn’t the worst of it though. I found the boat across the road. The gale blew through our ropes and picked up the boat, and threw it down across the path. How I have no idea, it was nowhere near the water. I couldn’t drag it back on my own, and Sean and I together couldn’t move it either. So I’m leaving it on the road for the time being. I took some time to go quickly look out at the light, to see. It was surprisingly fine. I imagine the keeper’s house was damaged, but the light is still glinting. Dad still isn’t here, but I suspect he’ll be back by this evening or tomorrow morning.

_November 10_

Dad got back late last night. He was alright but was a little upset that he wasn’t here to help us get ready. But he did say that Sean and I did a good job, despite the boat ending up on land. He saw a lot of wrecks out in the bay on his way back, so I might go and salvage them if I have the time. Other than that, the day was spent doing repair work around the house.

_November 11_

Dad and I have started on the boat. It was only slightly damaged, surprisingly, but it did need to be patched up in some places. After that, I went scavenging. I sailed past the lighthouse. I looked at it, as I always do. But my attention was more on the surfmen than the building. I think I might join them. Dad’ll be won’t be too upset I think. Oh who am I kidding? He’ll hate it. If I join them I put us all at risk. Dad needs me to help with the fishing, and to teach Sean. If I join I could die. But...But I want to dedicate myself to _something_. Dad did, why can’t I?

_November 12_

I went with Mam, Erin, and Mary to the Station. They had quilts and scarves and sweaters and socks and gloves to give to the men there. The surfmen and the sailors whose ships got wrecked. Everyone was very grateful for the things they brought. I started talking to some of the surfmen. They’re all our neighbors, giving up time and risking their safety for others.

_November 13_

I spent today staring at the lighthouse. But I wasn’t thinking about it. I was thinking about the surfmen. I’m going to join them. No one can stop me. I will be a surfman. I want to do more than fish. I want to help others. This is helping. Surely Dad will understand. He did the same thing when he was younger. And what I want to do isn’t even that bad! Next time there is a storm I’m going down to the station to help. No one can stop me.


End file.
